Morwen and Isildur
by King Caspian the Seafarer
Summary: WARNING: AU FIC! What if Faramir and Eowyn had met when they were younger? Would tempers flare and a duel 'to the death' be the result? And would a sudden attack from Orcs rid young Eowyn of her desire for battle? Completed.
1. Chapter 1: To the Death

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings.**

**A/N: This is a sort of AU story...what if Faramir and Eowyn had met before RotK as children. Takes place in Northern Ithilien. Oh and for this fic I kind of messed with the ages of them, so Faramir is only one year older than Eowyn. Sorry if that throws you.**

**I love reviews. I really do. ;)**

Chapter 1

In Northern Ithilien, a slender, alert figure stood upon a flat hill, gazing down at a valley filled with enemies streaming out of the Black Gate. All of the armies of Mordor had gathered; the Orcs now followed a Dark Lord more evil than any living thing. Sauron was ready to conquer. Now they stood below the figure, threatening the freedom of all the countries of Middle Earth.

The figure drew its sword. The blade rang true, echoing and drawing the attention of the Orcs down below. Some snarled defiantly, but most of the gruesome creatures cowered and slunk back from the bright figure, shining in the sun.

Then Sauron stepped forward.

"Who dares to stand before me?" the creature of evil hissed, black mist crawling around him and toward the lone figure. "Know you not that evil has come? No living man may hinder me!"

"I am no man!" the figure said softly, icily, tossing back her hood, swinging her sword into action and leaping forward.

The woman let out a battle cry as she leapt toward her enemy.

"A woman?" Sauron crowed. "The Kings of the world would send a woman to do battle with me?"

"I am no ordinary woman," she said boldly. "I am Morwen, warrior maiden. I fear neither death nor pain, and I will slay you if Eru allows it."

Sauron hissed, and drew his sword, though Morwen could feel fear radiating from the masked figure. She would win. Good would triumph.

--

"Ahhhhhhh!" thirteen-year-old Eowyn cried, jumping forward and stabbing her stick into thin air. "Take that, Lord of Mordor! Let that teach you to underestimate the power of a woman!"

Her imagined Sauron sunk to his knees, the power flooding out of him. Eowyn stood over him triumphantly, knowing that her enemy would never again threaten Middle Earth. But before she was quite done celebrating, a quiet voice penetrated her imaginings and made her jump.

"The power of a woman?"

Eowyn whirled around, her stick brandished defensively in front of her and a determined look on her face.

Standing not five yards away, wielding a stick of his own, was a tall, slim boy, his dark brown hair blowing in the wind.

"Who are you?" Eowyn said half angrily. Who was this boy to intrude upon her battle? How much had he heard?

"I might ask you the same thing," the boy answered calmly, lowering his sword ever so slightly.

"I…" still caught up in her daydream, Eowyn decided to test the newcomer, "I am Morwen, defender of all free lands."

The boy's lips curved in the slightest of smiles, and he said, "And I am Isildur, King of Gondor."

Eowyn allowed herself a small smile. So he knew how to pretend. All the better.

"I am honored to meet you, O bravest of kings," she said, inclining her head ever so slightly. She hated curtseying.

"And I you, Lady Morwen the Valiant," Isildur replied, bowing nobly.

Eowyn stared at the boy intently. Had she seen him before? The answer lurked somewhere in the back of her mind…

"—you fighting?" the boy was asking.

"Oh…what?" she said, coming out of her daydream.

"I said, who were you fighting? I heard you say, 'Lord of Mordor'. Were you fighting Sauron?"

"Oh…you heard that," Eowyn murmured, blushing. "I…I defeated him."

"I see," said the boy. He scratched his head, and then looked at her with a smile. "I have fought him before; many times."

Eowyn grinned thankfully, and then neither spoke. The silence was deafening.

"Where are you from?" Eowyn finally asked.

"Where was Isildur from?" Isildur asked with a grin, sitting down on the damp grass and looking over at the smooth lake that lay just beyond the hill. Eowyn sat next to him.

"You're from Gondor?"

The boy inclined his head, and Eowyn felt a thrill run through her. Maybe that's where she had seen him before. Théoden, her uncle, had brought her, Eomer, her brother, and his own son Theodred to Ithilian to meet with Denethor, the steward of Gondor. Some diplomatic meeting, Eowyn was sure.

But she had always wanted to visit Ithilien, and though she was a bit disappointed about the lack of enemies, every place she went was breathtakingly beautiful. From crystalline waterfalls to the greenest of valleys, Ithilien was the place of dreams. Denethor's company and Théoden's were camped together, in the most beautiful valley of them all. She closed her eyes and let a soft wind from the east dance across her face.

"Where are you from?" Isildur asked.

"Rohan," Eowyn said proudly. She loved her country, the Land of Horses.

"So you're a follower of King Théoden."

It wasn't a question. This boy obviously knew his politics.

"Yes. And your leader is Lord Denethor."

Eowyn wasn't going to let some boy try to impress her with knowledge. She could spout off as many names as he could, if not more.

"So, what do you think of your liege lord?" Isildur asked.

"He's the bravest king in the whole world," Eowyn stated impulsively.

Isildur threw back his head and laughed, and she immediately regretted saying it, her cheeks turning pink.

"I…I mean…"

"I'm sure he's very brave," the boy said gently, a smile playing at the edge of his mouth. "And what do you think of Denethor?"

"He's…" Eowyn looked away from the boy.

"He's what?"

She looked back up and found his searching grey eyes staring into hers, seeking an answer. Now, Eowyn realized that he was not much older than her. Maybe a year or two.

"He's not a king," she said simply.

Isildur's face didn't change, but his eyes lost some of their warmth, and his next question was cold.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well it would be all right if he had fought in a battle or something. Then he would be a _great_ steward, almost worthy of being called a king," Eowyn said quickly, looking down again.

When no answer came from Isildur, she glanced back up at him. His cold grey eyes were no longer on her, but on the lake. A thoughtful, almost wistful look was in them, as he said, "Wars do not bring greatness, not battles lasting glory."

"Don't they?" Eowyn said distractedly.

"No. You just said that Théoden was the greatest king ever to rule Rohan. He hasn't fought in any great battle," the boy said, turning back to her.

Eowyn felt herself turning red again.

"What do you mean?" she asked angrily.

"What?" Isildur asked, cocking his head questioningly. "I didn't mean anything. But Théoden isn't exactly a great warrior; from what you just said, anyway."

Eowyn, being who she was, took this as an insult. Immediately, she jumped to her feet and grabbed the stick.

"Pick up your sword," she said through gritted teeth.

"What?" Isildur asked from where he was seated. When he saw her stick, he cocked an eyebrow. "Why?"

"I challenge you to a duel," Eowyn said earnestly. "To the death."

--

_**To be continued...**_


	2. Chapter 2: Blackmail

**Disclaimer: Nothing has changed since the last chapter. I still don't own LOTR. **

**A/N: Just to avoid confusion, I shall be switching a bit from Faramir's POV to Eowyn's. There will always be a separation, and in Eowyn's POV, he is Isildur. In Faramir's, she is Morwen. That should make it easier. **

**And another thing: I'm sure I've got the ages of all these wonderful characters slaughtered. I never could find solid proof of how old Faramir and Eowyn were, let alone Eomer and Boromir. So I've put Boromir two years older than Faramir, and Eomer is roughly Boromir's age. Sorry if this makes you mad. I give you permission to flame. ; )**

--Chapter 2--

Faramir hadn't planned on going for a walk that day. In fact, he wouldn't have been alone, except that the King of Rohan's nephew was in camp and sixteen-year-old Boromir couldn't wait to be introduced.

"Do you suppose he likes to duel?" Boromir asked excitedly as he pulled on his leather jerkin. "I can't believe he's actually close to my age. You know how father hates for us to make friends with people who are 'below us'."

He turned back in the doorway and looked back at his fourteen-year-old brother who was watching him quietly from his cot.

"Do you want to come?"

"Not really," Faramir replied. "I'm still tired from the ride yesterday. I think I'll go out and read a book in the woods—"

"Where no one can interrupt," Boromir finished for him. The two brothers exchanged a grin. Faramir hated to be interrupted when he got to the best part of a book. And it nearly always happened that he was interrupted right when the book got interesting. It had been an inside joke between the two sons of Denethor, ever since Faramir had complained of it to his older brother once.

Boromir flashed him a bright grin. "Have fun, little brother."

Then he was gone. With a sigh, Faramir got up and grabbed a book. Leisurely, he made his way through the encampment and to his favorite spot in the woods, near the top of a flat hill. It was then that he saw her.

On top of the hill stood a tall, slender girl, her long, fair hair blowing out behind her in the wind. In her right hand, she held a long stick, about sword length, and she suddenly spun around with it, stabbing and slicing at invisible enemies with strong and smooth strokes. The wind caught her voice and blew it toward Faramir.

"--Lord of Mordor! Let that teach you to underestimate the power of a woman!" she cried victoriously, standing over an imagined foe.

Faramir grinned to himself, carefully set the book down on a log, and found a stick of his own. He had often battled dragons and enemies in his imaginings.

"The power of a woman?" he asked loudly, intending for his voice to carry.

His words had the desired effect. The girl whirled around, nearly dropping her sword in surprise, but swinging it up into a defensive block. Her face was pale, and her light grey eyes burned in defiance and fury at being interrupted.

"Who are you?" she asked angrily.

"I might ask you the same thing."

"I…" the girl searched for an answer, "I am Morwen, defender of all free lands."

Two could play at this game.

"And I am Isildur, King of Gondor," Faramir replied.

A broad grin crossed Morwen's face.

"An honor to meet you, O bravest of Kings…"

--

"A duel to the death?" Isildur asked, surprise and disbelief in his voice. He glanced at her stick in amusement.

Eowyn nodded, her anger barely contained. _Well, maybe not to the death…but certainly to defeat._

Isildur stood up and grabbed his sword. Eowyn circled him, watching his stick with alertness her uncle would be proud of. Swiftly, she lunged forward, stabbing at him, and the fight began.

Eowyn's first blow was easily blocked by the dark haired boy. Her next one flew at his ear and then at his legs. Then he seemed to realize she wasn't an amateur and began his attack. Trying to catch her off guard, Isildur flung his sword toward her side, and then swept it down from above. Eowyn blocked both blows with ease.

She was now grateful she had been so persistent in begging Eomer for those dueling lessons he had begrudgingly given her. She swung from below, and then at his head. Isildur feigned a blow at her feet, but then swung up and came within inches of her nose.

Just to show her that he could.

Angry that he had gotten past her guard, Eowyn swung her sword at his legs and then at his shoulders. He blocked both. Then, he stepped back and said,

"Why must we fight?"

Eowyn almost dropped her sword in shock. She had thought that every boy loved dueling. Her brother and cousin did.

"Because you insulted Théoden king!" she replied.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Isildur replied. "Besides, I don't want to hurt you. I'll get in trouble for fighting with a..." his words trailed off at the hurt and angry look that crossed the girl's face.

"Say it. You'd get in trouble for fighting with a girl. I know. But forget I'm a girl, just for this once."

The boy shook his head doubtfully, his face etched with worry.

"I can't fight you."

"Coward," Eowyn hissed, using the trick she always used on Eomer. "If you don't finish this fight, I'll tell the whole camp that you're afraid to fight with a girl."

Isildur flushed and his face became angry.

"That's...blackmail!"

"Exactly," Eowyn said hungrily. "So fight me. No one ever comes out this far from camp anyway. Or are you afraid?"

The boy flushed again, this time for being called coward by a girl. Eowyn almost smiled. She didn't give him a chance to think it over. She swung for his head, and her stick smacked the side of his face hard, knocking him down. Isildur jumped up, his grey eyes burning with cold fury now, and his teeth clenched.

"No holding back," Eowyn said angrily, "Or I'll tell—"

"I won't hold back," the boy spat out slowly.

Then he leapt forward.

_**TBC…...(if five people review, I'll post the next chapter sooner than otherwise)**_


	3. Chapter 3: Discovered

**Disclaimer: Look in the previous chapters if you're not sure. I really don't own LOTR. ;)**

**A/N: This is Faramir's POV first and then Eowyn's. Thanks so much for the reviews, guys, and I would love some more…really. ;)**

**Sarahbarr17: I'm so glad you like it. Thanks for telling me! I never could figure it out.**

**Rossmonster: Here's more! I'm glad you like Faramir. He's one of my favorite characters. ;)**

**Dearborn: I'm glad you think it's 'good work'! **

**Queen Su: Thanks for using my correct title. I hope that's not the last chapter you will read. ;)**

**jest Tal: Yes it is blackmail. What can I say? It's the only way to get reviews. I'm glad the characters seemed right to you. I always picture them almost exactly as you describe them. **

--Chapter 3--

To fight her, or not to fight her. Faramir was at odds with himself. If he fought this brave warrior girl, he might get in trouble for fighting a girl; but if he refused to fight her, she would tell the whole camp. It seemed he would lose both ways.

As he contemplated the consequences of fighting Morwen, Faramir failed to realize that the stick was not being swung idly in the air, but toward his head in an actual blow.

The stick hissed like a snake as it flew through the air, and made a loud THWACK as it hit his cheek, throwing him to the ground in agony. His head throbbed with pain, but Faramir forced himself to his feet. The pain made him lose his usual calm demeanor, and made him angry. No girl should be able to get past his defense, even if it was against the rules to hit an enemy off his guard.

"No holding back," the girl said, "Or I'll tell—"

"I won't hold back," Faramir spat the words out one by one. And the blood that was collecting in his mouth.

He leapt forward, slashing right and left more quickly than he thought he could. Morwen stumbled back, confused by all the blows. He hit at her feet, and then at her head. She blocked both blows. Then, he feigned a strike at her head and instead brought his stick down on Morwen's left shoulder.

The girl cried out, a mixed cry of frustrated anger and pain. She crossed swords with him, and they both pushed forward until their faces were only inches away. Morwen pushed with her sword, and then punched him hard in the mouth. Faramir jerked back, spitting out blood from broken lips.

He swung his sword forward and hit her in the right hip, hard. She didn't cry out this time. Then, they locked swords again and pushed hard. Faramir was watching for another punch, but Morwen, without a glance downward, kicked Faramir's legs out from under him.

With a cry of surprise, the boy tumbled to the ground, landing heavily on the muddy grass. He held up his sword to keep her away, but she knocked his hand back and put her stick at his throat, a triumphant smile on her face.

Faramir panted and licked his bleeding lips, looking up at Morwen with a new respect for her in his face. Then, he noticed how busy she was in her victory. Her eyes were fixed on someplace far away, and she wasn't paying him any mind. Quickly, Faramir swung his sword at her lower legs, and, hitting them hard, swept her off her feet.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

She had won! Eowyn's mind was soaring as she stood over the defeated Isildur. She had beaten a boy older than herself! Now the world would know of Lady Eowyn. Maybe her uncle would knight her, and she could really be a protector of the realm.

However as she reveled in her daydreams, she failed to notice the boy's hand reach for his stick. Suddenly, something hit her legs hard and knocked her off her feet. Isildur was up in a flash. She tried to defend herself, but he slapped her right hand gently, making her sword fall from stinging fingers.

"Ow!" she cried, pain flaring through her legs and her right hip where she had landed on the hard ground.

Isildur stood above her, sword at her throat. He was probably gloating, she thought. Finally, after a long silence, she made herself look up. Isildur didn't look very triumphant. He stood above her, his whole body shaking. Turning his head, he spit out a mouthful of blood from his broken lips. A dark bruise marked his cheek where she had hit him earlier, and Eowyn winced for him. That must hurt.

"The battle isn't over until your enemy's sword is out of reach," the boy explained softly, a grin dancing in his eyes.

Eowyn glared up at him. Grey eyes met, Eowyn's hard like steel, and Isildur's soft like the moon's rays. Eowyn found herself wondering what kind of boy this was that had defeated her after she had won.

But before she had time to say anything, she saw a hand reach out and grab the boy's shoulder, jerking him back away from her and punching him in the stomach, and then in the jaw. As the dark haired boy fell to the ground, she saw Isildur's attacker's face. She groaned. Loudly.

"E-o-mer!" she shouted, separating the syllables like she did when she was angry with him.

Her very protective older brother was glaring down at Isildur and he looked about ready to find a sword and fight his sister's opponent himself.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's cowardly to attack girls?" her brother yelled angrily at the boy.

A new voice came from behind Eowyn's brother.

"What's going on, Eomer?"

A new boy stepped into view, about the same age as her brother, but taller. His dark hair fell to his shoulders, and he grinned when he saw her and bowed deeply.

"Hello, my lady."

Eowyn glared at him, but didn't have time to say anything. Eomer stepped over to her and reached down a hand.

"Come on, Eowyn. Get up."

Eowyn cast her brother's hand a scornful look, and then ignored it, standing up on her own. Eomer sighed and then turned to Isildur again.

"Are you going to answer me?" he asked angrily, moving his foot dangerously close to the boy's stomach.

The tall boy glanced casually down at Isildur, and then his face filled with surprise. He gasped and knelt beside him.

"Faramir! What has happened?"

He grabbed the boy's shoulder, and then looked up at Eomer.

"Did you see what happened to him?"

"Do you know this boy?" Eomer asked in astonishment.

"I should hope so!" the tall boy said softly, his face deadly serious and his voice filled with something like cold anger. "He's my brother."

_**TBC………….(if you review...)**_


	4. Chapter 4: You should have been Hurin

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. Figured it out yet?**

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but enjoy this because it might be longer until the next one. I'm going to be awfully busy. ;)**

**--**

**WorldofWarcraftFanatic16: Glad you like it. And trust me, the older siblings aren't dreadfully happy. But they won't get angry until the next chapter. ;)**

**JennMel: Don't worry. I plan on continuing this fic whether people review or not. I just like to idly threaten sometimes...probably shouldn't have said that.**

**Bittersweet x: Thanks for telling me, and I'm sorry I got the age difference wrong. This is an AU fic, if I haven't said so before.**

**Dearborn: Indeed they will get in a lot of trouble...in the next chapter. Sorry to make you wait! ;) **

**Legolas: I certainly intend to continue. If I didn't, well, poor Faramir might be a bit upset. He is under attack, you know. ;)**

**Rossmonster: Sorry. I and Eowyn are alike in that we use blackmail for the worst of reasons grins evilly. I'm glad you're interested, though. ;)**

**Queen Su: I prefer King, really, but I shall forgive you this time. You do need to update. **

**Isilme'sStar: I'm glad you like it. I always thought that Faramir and Eowyn should have been just a _bit_ closer in ages anyway. ;)**

**blueoctober: Poor poor Faramir. I pity him too, especially since he's in my fic grins evilly. Don't worry. He won't get into _too_ much trouble...**

--Chapter 4--

Faramir was surprised to feel the hand on his shoulder as he looked down at Morwen.

He was even more surprised when the hand twisted him around and punched him hard, first in the stomach, then in the jaw. With a gasp of agony, Faramir slumped to the ground. His attacker stood over him, a strong boy, a few years older than himself. Though he was only of medium height, his shoulders were broad; his light brown hair hung past his shoulders, and his face was red with anger.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's cowardly to attack girls?" the boy yelled furiously.

"What's going on, Eomer?" asked a familiar voice.

_Boromir_!

"Are you going to answer me?" the stranger asked.

Faramir tried to speak, to defend himself, but his lungs would not take air. The force of the stranger's blow had knocked the wind out of him.

"Faramir!"

Faramir forced his eyes open and found himself looking into his brother's face, full of concern.

"What happened?" Boromir asked softly, grabbing his brother's shoulder and looking him over.

Faramir shook his head and closed his eyes again. He _hurt _all over.

"Did you see what happened?" his brother asked the other boy.

"Do you know this boy?"

"I should hope so. He's my brother."

There was silence for a moment, a stony silence. Then Morwen sighed.

"Eowyn?" the boy asked.

So that's who she was. Théoden's niece. Now Faramir understood why she was so angry when he practically called Théoden a coward. And when he'd said he wouldn't fight a girl. Being of the royal house called for at least some valor.

"Are you alright?" her brother asked her as the girl stood up.

"Yes, but he's not," Eowyn said angrily, kneeling beside Faramir and grabbing his shoulder.

--

Eowyn knelt beside the dark haired boy and grabbed his shoulder. He opened his eyes, and she ached at the hurt in them.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly.

Faramir blinked and winced at the pain in his stomach, but then nodded.

"Can you talk?" Eowyn asked worriedly.

Faramir shook his head again. He could hardly breathe.

Eowyn looked up at the two older boys.

"That was quite a punch you threw, brother," she told Eomer, who was now regretting his hotheaded decision. "Especially considering I didn't need your help."

"Wait…you did this?" the tall boy asked her brother, gesturing at Faramir.

"I thought he attacked my sister!" Eomer said angrily. "What was I supposed to do? What were _you_ doing?" he asked, turning to Eowyn.

"I…we were dueling," Eowyn said, looking down at the ground.

"Dueling?" the tall boy frowned. "But Faramir knows better than to duel with a girl."

He noticed Eowyn glaring at him, and smiled, bowing nobly.

"I'm sorry, Lady Eowyn. I am Boromir, son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, and brother to Faramir."

Eowyn nodded and looked back at Faramir. The younger boy was breathing more easily now; Boromir knelt again and said,

"Are you alright?"

"I'm…fine…" Faramir said, still struggling for breath.

Boromir touched his brother's cheek, the bruised one, and Faramir flinched ever so slightly.

"Maybe we should go inside and sort this whole mess out," Eomer said from above.

Boromir stood up. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

Eowyn sighed and stood up as well.

"You're sure you're alright?" she asked Faramir one last time.

"I'm sure," he said, pushing himself up and wincing once more.

She held out her hand; Faramir glanced up and took it gratefully. Once on his feet, the boy stumbled forward. Eowyn and Boromir both grabbed his arms for support, but he shook his head and pulled away.

"It's okay…I'm fine," he said, standing up straight and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"Good."

Eomer breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he had not seriously injured a son of the Steward of Gondor. "Follow me. We can find an empty tent, and then," he gave Eowyn a meaningful look, "you can tell us what happened."

Both Eowyn and Faramir managed to look sheepish, but as their older siblings turned away, Eowyn let out a muffled giggle.

"Did you see Eomer's face?" she whispered.

Faramir frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked, glancing ahead to make sure the others weren't listening.

"When he heard that you were the son of the Steward! He was horrified!" She giggled again.

"Too bad he wasn't notified before he punched me," Faramir said dryly, rubbing his jaw.

Eowyn giggled nervously again. Then she glanced at Faramir again and tried not to gasp in dismay. His cheek, where Eowyn had hit him at the beginning of their fight, was dark purple, almost black, from right beneath his eye to the bottom of his cheekbone.

"Oh!" she gasped. Faramir looked at her in confusion, and then saw her eyes on his cheek. Turning red, he touched it, and tried not to wince at the dull ache that throbbed through his face.

"Don't worry," he said. "It's not that bad."

"I'm sorry," Eowyn said, hanging her head.

"For what?" Faramir asked, looking at her quizzically. "I was the one who started the fight. I should not have made you angry."

"It's not your fault at all," Eowyn said, angry that he would blame himself. "I was the one who started it. And I was the one who struck before my opponent was ready."

"It is my fault, though," Faramir replied, "for interrupting your game and setting you off. I shouldn't have been so—"

"Stop it!" Eowyn screamed, startling both Faramir and the older boys who stopped and looked back. Eomer took a step toward them, but Boromir grabbed his arm and shook his head. _Wait._

"Stop what?" Faramir asked in confusion.

"Stop saying it's your fault!" Eowyn said angrily. "Because it's not! It's mine. I'm the one who started it all. It's my fault if we get in trouble for it and if you say another word about it, than I'll…"

Eowyn stopped, not knowing what to say next. She glared at Faramir in silent fury. She was even more irritated when she realized that she was glaring up at him. Why couldn't she be taller?

Faramir stared down at her in disbelief. Eowyn's firm grey eyes were angry, but Faramir realized that she was accepting the blame because she was sorry. Then, Eomer grabbed Eowyn's arm and held her back.

"Calm down, sister," he said, pulling her a little. "Enough fights for today."

Eowyn glowered up at her brother for a moment, and then looked down.

"You're right. I'm sorry," she said softly.

"No harm done," said Boromir lightly. "Shall we go in?"

He gestured at the flap of a tent; Eomer gave Eowyn The Look and stepped inside. Eowyn glanced sheepishly at Faramir, and then followed. When she was inside, Boromir said,

"You said she chose the name Morwen when you fought? Pity you chose Isildur."

Faramir raised an eyebrow in question.

"What in Gondor do you mean?"

Boromir leaned forward, and said with a grin,

"You should have been Hurin, brother. Then you could have married her."

Before Faramir had time to strangle him, Boromir ducked inside the tent to join the others.

--

_**TBC...(please review. I won't blackmail you this time!)**_


	5. Chapter 5: Charmed

**Disclaimers: I don't own LOTR. **

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, and thanks for your patience! I think this one has taken less time to publish than the previous chapter though...oh well. ;) I love your reviews. Please do not hesitate to leave a remark, even if you just feel like flaming. Thanks!**

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**Reviews**

**Legolas:** I'm glad you liked my choice of words! Hope this chapter makes you happy. ;)

**Moromu:** So happy you thought it was funny. I hope you continue to think so. ;)

**WorldofWarCraftFanatic16: **I'm glad you liked the Hurin bit. When I began writing, I thought about having Faramir choose the name Hurin, but then decided against it. It works better with Boromir teasing his poor younger brother. ;)

**Isilme'sStar:** Glad you thought it was funny. ;) I like funny stories. But only if they're not ridiculously funny. Hope this chapter meets your expectations. ;)

**Queen Su:** Did Peter beat you? 'Cause I totally defeated you in that fencing match we had...;) And the quote contest. ;)

**Rossmonster:** I would love a cookie. Chocolate chip are my favorite. ;) Boromir is indeed a cheeky little blighter. I like him that way.

**blueoctober:** I agree that there aren't enough stories about Faramir. He totally rocks. I'm glad you liked the "Hurin" bit. That was fun. And the older brothers are overprotective. I'm an older sibling, so I know exactly what it's like. ;)

**Bittersweet x:** Your waiting for updates has come to an end...for this chapter anyway. ;) Glad you liked the last one.

**Dearborn:** I'm glad you thought it was so funny! This is really my first go at a funny fic, and I only stuck little bits of humor in. It might end up being funnier than I had planned, though. ;)

_**(Do I smile too much? Oh well...)**_

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Chapter 5

Faramir stepped inside the tent. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light, but when he could see clearly, he stepped over to a narrow cot that was up against one wall, and sat down on it. Eomer and Eowyn sat on a cot on the wall opposite him, whispering fiercly. Boromir glanced at him, and then headed for the flap again.

"I'll be right back," he said with a backward glance, shaking his head at his brother's appearance.

Faramir sat in uncomfortable silence, trying not to listen to the loud whispers coming from Eomer and Eowyn. Finally, Eomer noticed the other boy's searching gaze and sat up straight, kicking Eowyn, who did likewise.

"I apologize for my hastiness, Lord Faramir. It wasn't very polite to knock you down first meeting," Eomer said, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin.

"It's alright," Faramir said, fidgeting nervously. "I don't blame you. Boromir would have done the same thing."

The three sat in uncomfortable silence until Boromir returned, holding a wooden bowl and a white cloth. Faramir's brother plopped down beside Faramir on the cot and shook his head.

"So," he said, dipping the cloth into the bowl of water and handing it to Faramir, "how did you two get into this mess?"

"Well," Faramir replied, taking the offered towel gratefully and wiping his still bleeding mouth with it, "let me tell you about Morwen and Isildur."

Faramir proceeded to tell the whole story of their 'adventure' and duel, leaving out the part where Eowyn hit him while he was unprepared, to her relief. Boromir laughed merrily at the part when Eowyn knocked his brother down, winning a glare from both of the young warriors. When Faramir had finished, Eomer leaned back in his chair and whistled in admiration.

"So you really did make him duel you," he said, rumpling his sister's fair hair.

Eowyn blushed in embarrassment, her face turning pink for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

"I didn't think we'd…well…get into this much trouble," she said, biting her lip forlornly.

Then, she looked up at Eomer pleadingly, her grey-blue eyes begging him as only a little sister can.

"You won't tell Uncle…will you?"

Eomer took one look at his sister, and gave a huge sigh, characteristic of the older brother at such a moment.

"When you look at me with such large, beseeching eyes? Honestly, Eowyn, I don't know how can be fighting with strange boys one moment," he gestured to Faramir, "and then act like you're the sweetest child in Middle Earth."

"Don't turn her in, Eomer," Boromir persuaded, completely captivated by her charm. "She couldn't have really meant any harm."

Eowyn gritted her teeth, but smiled at him gratefully. Boromir grinned back, winking at her. It took everything Eowyn had in her not to roll her eyes. Boys. Eomer paused long enough for Eowyn to bat her eyelashes twice. Then he sighed again.

"Of course I won't tell."

Eowyn, done convincing her brother, turned once more to Faramir, who was carefully wiping at his bloody, grimy face.

"Oh really," she said, grabbing the cloth from his hands and plopping down next to him, "you can't expect to clean your face like _that_!"

She wrung the dirty water from the towel, and then dipped it into the bowl again.

"Hold still," she commanded, and grasped his chin with her cool, slim fingers.

Boromir poked his brother in the back, but Faramir gritted his teeth and ignored his brother's teasing. Eowyn gently bathed his face, starting at his forehead and moving down his face. Faramir, a bit uncomfortable, couldn't bring himself to look at her. When she reached his bruised cheek, however, her hand suddenly let go the firm grip she had on his chin. His eyes found hers.

"What?" he found himself asking.

"That's a horrid bruise," Eowyn replied, biting her lip.

"Yes, and it's going to raise some questions tonight at supper, I'll be bound," Boromir said. "And if Father finds out…"

Faramir winced, and Eowyn's eyes grew searching.

"What? What about Lord Denethor?"

"Father hates it when we get into trouble," Boromir explained. "And this certainly matches his idea of trouble."

"Does he…beat you?" Eomer asked cautiously.

"Of course not!" Faramir fairly shouted, drawing back a bit. "But he does get dreadfully angry. He can't help it. He doesn't get physical…just blusters a bit."

"It's terrible to disappoint him, though," Boromir said, looking down at his feet for a moment. "We're supposed to be examples. I suppose you know what I mean."

Eowyn thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"Yes. I suppose it's harder for Theodred than for us, though. He's Uncle's son. The prince. We're only the king's wayward nephew and niece."

Eomer poked her.

"Speak for yourself, O wayward one!"

He looked at Faramir's purple cheek, and then shook his head.

"You could put flour on it, but it probably won't stay. I guess we'll have to tell them the truth."

"No," Faramir said stubbornly. "I don't want to get your sister in trouble. I'll tell him I hit a tree branch. You did use a stick in the fight," he reminded Eowyn.

"I suppose that'll have to work," Eowyn said with a sigh.

She smiled slightly.

"You do look awful. Better change those clothes before the evening meal."

"And you as well, sister dear," Eomer teased. "You look like you've been through a battle."

"Who's to say I haven't?" Eowyn shot back with a feisty grin.

Then she frowned as she looked down at her ripped dress, covered in mud and grime.

"Bother dresses. I wish I could just wear trousers like you. Or mail."

Boromir rose with a sly smile and bowed, extending his hand to the girl.

"Ah, but Lady Eowyn; if the women went to war, than there would be nothing for the men to do."

"I'm sure we could find you_ something_ to do," Eowyn replied smugly. "Besides," she got up, taking his hand politely for the briefest of seconds, "if women fought in battles, they _would _be over more quickly."

She strode out of the tent proudly, happy to have had the last word. Boromir watched her go, shaking his head in admiration.

"On second thought brother, you can be Isildur. I think I might just try my hand as Hurin."

_**TBC...(Don't forget to review!)**_


	6. Chapter 6: The Not so dull Dinner

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. **

**A/N: Thank you so much for being patient! I had a dreadful case of Writer's Block. I think it's all gone now. **

**Anyway, this is the second to last chapter...I think. That may change. In fact it is likely that it will change. Please review if you have time! Thanks for sticking with me and not being impatient!**

_--Chapter 6--_

As Eowyn dressed for dinner, her mind kept drifting to the impending doom that seemed to loom ahead. Would she get into trouble at supper tonight? Would anyone notice Faramir's bruise?

_Of course they will. They'd have to be blind not to notice._

She sighing heavily as she slipped into a long, fancy court dress. Eowyn winced when the dress caught on her shoulder. She looked down at it, only to half gasp in pain and dismay. Her whole left shoulder was bruised dark purple, presumably from the fight. Rubbing it gently, Eowyn carefully pulled the dress the rest of the way on and ran a hand through her long, tangled hair. She'd cut it once, when she was four. That had gotten her into so much trouble that she hadn't tried it since.

_Bong…bong…bong…_the dinner gong rang solemnly three times. Eowyn hastily grabbed a wet towel and wiped at her face. Glancing quickly in a mirror and hoping she was clean enough to escape her uncle's attention, she fled from the tent.

Upon arrival at the only solid structure at their camp, a long wooden hall, Eowyn slipped through the door and made her way to her brother's side.

"You're late," Eomer hissed at her as she slid into her seat.

"Not very," she whispered back.

Her cousin, Theodred, sat to Eomer's left, and her uncle, Théoden, King of Rohan, was to Theodred's left. On Théoden's left side were his numerous advisors, including Grima Wormtongue. Eowyn shuddered at the sight of him. Though not old, Grima was the most frightening person she knew. His eyes were like snake eyes; cold and emotionless.

Eowyn wrenched her gaze away from Wormtongue and searched the room. Finally, her eyes found Faramir, the bruise on his cheek visible from across the room, sitting beside his brother and a man with almost grey hair: Denethor, son of Ecthalion, Steward of Gondor. Eowyn rippled her fingers in a wave, catching Faramir's eye. He grinned ever so slightly, and she smiled back.

With a glance around the room, Théoden rose and raised his hands. The low murmurs in the room were silenced, and Théoden looked inquiringly across the room at Denethor.

"Lord Denethor," he said, his strong voice echoing through the quiet hall. "Would you like to offer the thanks for this meal?"

Denethor glanced up and scanned the room for a moment, and then looked back at the King of Rohan.

"I would be most pleased if your highness would do the honors," he said in a low voice.

Théoden nodded his head at Denethor, and then bowed his head. Everyone else in the dining hall did the same.

"O mighty Eru," Théoden prayed. "We, your humble subjects, offer thanks to thee for such bounteous times and food. May all glory and honor be yours, O Creator of Middle Earth."

"Glory and Honor to Eru," everyone repeated together.

Then the meal began. Théoden and Denethor dominated the conversation all throughout dinner, speaking mainly of all the matters to be dealt with in the few weeks that would be spent in Ithilien. Eowyn, being a child and not allowed to speak at the table, kept quiet in bored silence. She and Eomer whispered a bit, and she and Faramir exchanged a few knowing glances. Finally, the dreadful supper wait was over.

Everyone finished at different times, but no one left until Denethor stood up and nodded to King Théoden.

"I thank you, Théoden King, for such an enlightening conversation. Unfortunately, the hours grow long and I am in much need of sleep after our long journey. Until tomorrow," he said monotonously.

Boromir and Faramir, and some thirty other people who were also bored of the long dinner, stood up instantly, and all headed slowly toward the great wooden doors. In all the confusion of people leaving, Eowyn tried to find Faramir. There were so many people that she could hardly tell where the doors were anymore. She turned around and headed back toward the place she had come from, when she ran headlong into Boromir, almost knocking him down.

"Lady Eowyn," Boromir said, catching her before she could fall. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she said coldly, pulling away from him. "I was trying to find Faramir."

Boromir frowned ever so slightly.

"Why?" he asked.

"Did he get into any trouble? About his bruise, I mean?" Eowyn asked quickly.

Boromir grinned and shook his head.

"Oh that. Don't worry about him so. Father hardly noticed his bruise he was so busy with all this business with your uncle."

"Good," Eowyn sighed in relief.

Boromir watched her carefully for a moment, studying every detail of her face. Her white skin was still smudged with grime, as if she hadn't had time to wash well before dinner. Her blue-grey eyes burned with a fire that he couldn't quite place. Her chin was stubborn, and her lips were pressed hard together. Her fair hair hung loose down her back, rather tangled and messy.

"Eowyn!"

The girl spun around as she heard the voice of her uncle from behind her.

"Tell Faramir I'm sorry if he gets in trouble," she said hurriedly to Boromir. "Good night!"

"Goodnight, Lady Eowyn," Boromir said as he watched her flee.

Shaking his head with a smile, he marched off to find his father and Faramir.

Eowyn raced back to the table where sat her uncle, Théoden King.

"Yes, uncle?" she asked breathlessly when she finally stood before him.

Théoden nodded to Eomer and Theodred to leave, and then, when the dining hall was quiet and empty of anyone other than themselves and the servants who were cleaning the tables, he gestured to a chair.

"Sit," Théoden ordered.

Eowyn plopped down in the wooden chair and slouched back, knowing what was coming by her uncle's tone of voice.

"Did you see Lord Denethor's son at dinner tonight?" Théoden asked casually, taking a sip from his goblet.

"Which one?" Eowyn asked as if she didn't know.

"The one with the bruise on his cheek," her uncle continued. "I wonder where he got it."

Eowyn bit her lip and looked down. Théoden caught the uneasiness in her glance and gave her a look.

"Do you know, Eowyn?" he asked, trying not to smile.

"He said it was from a tree branch," Eowyn murmured.

"Funny he didn't tell you that this particular branch was wielded by a pair of hands," Théoden said dryly.

Eowyn bowed her head guiltily.

"Eomer told you," she said quietly. "He said he wouldn't."

Théoden laughed and shook his head.

"Eomer kept his word. It was not he that told, but one who watched it from afar."

"Theodred?" Eowyn asked in surprise. "I didn't know he was watching!"

"He saw it all," her uncle replied with a smile. "And I see by the bruises on your legs that Faramir wasn't the only one wounded in your duel."

Eowyn pushed her dress down over her legs hastily, but Théoden had already seen the dark bruises on her shins.

"It's improper to look at a lady's legs, Uncle," she said weakly.

Théoden laughed. He reached over and tenderly touched her cheek with his fingers.

"And since when have you been a lady, warrior-child?"

Eowyn smiled back at him, but then looked down again.

"Am I in trouble, Uncle Théoden?"

Théoden thought for a moment, but then shook his head.

"No…I think that you and Faramir punished each other enough. Take care that you don't drag any other unsuspecting lads into your 'duels to the death', though, Eowyn," he said with a grin.

"Thank you, Uncle," said Eowyn quickly, standing and curtseying to him. "Can I go?"

"May I go," Théoden corrected.

"_May_ I go?" Eowyn asked impatiently.

"Yes, sister-daughter," Théoden replied with another chuckle. "Don't hurt Theodred too badly."

"I shall restrain myself," Eowyn exclaimed over her shoulder as she marched out of the dining hall.

**_TBC...(please Please PLEASE review!! I love reviews)..._**

**My answer to your last Reviews:**

**WorldofWarCraftFanatic16**: So glad you like it! I love the brother relationship Faramir and Boromir have, and when I saw the extended scene in the Two Towers, I really started liking Boromir more.

**Moromu:** Thanks, again!

**Dearborn:** I'm afraid so. Poor Boromir. Eowyn doesn't like him, and she hates it when people call her "Lady Eowyn". I'm afraid Boromir is just going to have to be heartbroken.

**Bittersweet x**: I'm glad you thought it was so funny! After I did the whole "you should have been Hurin" thing, I thought, hey wait a minute...;)

**redrose7856**: So glad you like it! It's my first LOTR fic, and I only wrote it for fun.

**blueoctober**: Oh yeah! Being an older sibling, I know how it goes...both ways! No older sibling can stand the dreaded batted eyelashes and puppy dog eyes. Not really a competition, but Boromir is going to leave pretty heartbroken. Maybe.

**Legolas**: I hated it when he died too. Boromir is such a cool character, and I thought Sean Bean played him really well.

**Queen Su**: You're always in a hurry. ;) I'm not sure about writing tons more LOTR fics. I might eventually, but probably just stick with Narnia.

**Shadow**: I'm so glad you like it! I always wished there were more LOTR fics about the characters as kids, and Eowyn and Faramir just make for such fun stories when you throw them together.

**lulu:** I like the brother teasing thing too. I tease my siblings mercilessly, and I have a feeling Boromir and Faramir did plenty of that, even though they live in another world.

**The Halfling of the Shire**: Glad you like it! Boromir was easier to write in the last chapter since he and I are both oldest siblings. ;)

**a person**: I will write more, but I am not sure how much more. I'm not sure how far this story will take me. I will finish it, though. And when I finish, I will make it clear that the story is over. I hate bad endings. ;)

--


	7. Chapter 7: Confronting the Spy

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the rings.**

**A/N: Another chapter...and it's not the last one. Thank Eru (or Aslan) for inspiration, because I've just had quite a bit of it in the last few days. This is not the end of this fic. It's going to get more interesting.**

**_--Reviews--_**

**Moromu**: He isn't going to be _severly_ harmed, but he's not going to get away with telling on Eowyn either! ;)

**WorldofWarCraftFanatic16**: Writer's Block is dreadful. I despise it. And Boromir is certainly easier to understand after seeing that scene.

**redrose7856**: Eowyn is a warrior. She's amazing. I'm glad you're liking it!

**Queen Su**: Your majesty, with the greatest respect, I do believe that courageous, courteous, or chivalrous is more befitting a Knight of Narnia's stories. ;) lol

**blueoctober**: She will try to restrain herself. Not very hard, though. I'm glad you liked the chapter.

**Rossmonster**: He's not. I considered it briefly, but he'll just end up terribly disappointed. Sorry to dash your hopes. ;)

**Dearborn:** Theodred came out of nowhere. I wasn't planning on bringing him in, but it just sort of happened. And Sean Astin played Sam. Sean Bean did play Boromir. All the Seans make it so confusing...

**Bittersweet x:** She will try...not that she's good at trying...

**Legolas**: I'm glad you liked Theoden. He's so cool in the movies that I wanted to at least mention him. No fear. I will write more on this fic.

--Chapter 7--

"Theodred!"

Eowyn's cousin, nearly 17 years older than her, stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence as he spoke with Eomer on the archery range. The two young men turned and saw Eowyn storming toward them, a fearsome look upon her face.

"What did you do, Theo?" Eomer asked with a grin. "She looks like she wants to kill you!"

She certainly did. As they watched her walk toward them, the fury in her stride was more than evident.

"Uh oh," Theodred mumbled, taking a step back. "Father told her."

"What?" Eomer asked in confusion. "Told her what?"

Theodred turned to him hastily.

"Look, Eomer, if she gets violent, we may need some help."

"Help?"

It stuck Eomer as funny that his older cousin, an adult, would suggest the need for help from a girl less than half his age and size. He let out a laugh, but then stopped when Theodred shot him a glare.

"Why would we need help?" Eomer asked, still struggling to stay serious. "Don't you think that the two of us will be able to hold her down?"

As Theodred watched her approach, he slowly shook his head.

"Not if she's as angry as I think she is."

Eowyn marched up her cousin, and ignoring Eomer, glared up at Theodred, clenching her fists threateningly.

"Why were you spying on me?" she shouted, obviously trying not to get physical.

"Spying?" Eomer asked, puzzled.

"I wasn't spying," Theodred protested, spreading out his hands and trying to convince her of his innocence. "I was out for a walk and just happened to see; it was a very…entertaining duel."

He grinned weakly at her. Eowyn didn't grin back. She tensed up, as did the other two when they saw her tense up, but then relaxed again, clearly trying to restrain herself, as she had promised her uncle.

"But why did you have to tell Uncle Théoden?" she asked through clenched teeth.

"He asked," Theodred replied simply. "I'm not in the habit of lying to my father, like the Steward's sons."

Eowyn stiffened again, her eyes flashing.

"What are you talking about?"

Theodred, not noticing the tone of warning in her voice, continued ignorantly.

"The younger lad, Faramir, said that it was a tree branch that gave him his bruise! That's a lie if I ever heard one."

Finally, Eowyn could bear it no longer. Eomer saw it coming before Eowyn even drew back her arm, and tried to hold her back, but it was too late. Eowyn threw a punch directly at her cousin's stomach.

Theodred grunted and staggered back.

"Take it easy, Eowyn," he managed to say, holding his stomach with one hand and holding out the other towards her to keep her back. "You know it isn't a fair fight."

"Why not?" Eowyn exclaimed, holding up her fists in front of her. "It wasn't fair to jibe at Faramir while he isn't here!"

"I didn't know you felt so protective of your little 'friend'," Theodred said, unable to resist the opportunity to tease her.

She narrowed her eyes and moved toward him, but Theodred held out his arm again.

"You know it isn't a fair fight, Eowyn. And you know why, too."

Eowyn glared at him, almost speechless with rage.

"Say it," she dared him. "Go ahead. Everyone knows that women are useless, and you might as well say it as leave it unsaid."

Theodred shrugged and shook his head.

"Women aren't useless," he said, grinning slyly at Eomer before he murmured, "they're rather good in the kitchen, actually."

Eowyn shrieked in speechless fury as she flew at her cousin, kicking his shins and punching him until Eomer finally got a hold of her arms and held her back.

"That's enough, Eowyn!" her brother hissed in her ear. "You've done enough fighting for today."

"Enough fighting?" Eowyn shouted. "I won't have had enough until the whole world knows that women can fight, can hold their own in a world of brainless men!"

Instead of being angered by the insult, Theodred and Eomer both gave each other one glance and burst out laughing. Eowyn struggled as she tried to free herself from her brother, but to no avail. Suddenly calm voice rang out among the boisterous laughter of the son and nephew of Théoden.

"Let her go," said a cloaked figure softly, appearing from seemingly out of nowhere.

Both Theodred and Eomer let out an exclamation of surprise.

"Where did you come from?" said Eomer.

"Who are you?" Theodred asked suspiciously, laying a hand on his sword hilt.

Only Eowyn recognized the voice of the hooded shape.

"Faramir!" she said, nearly crying with relief.

The person reached up and pushed back the hood, revealing that he was, in fact, Faramir.

"Why didn't we hear you come?" Eomer demanded, his eyes full of brief anger, and then surprised admiration. "You were silent as a ghost!"

Faramir grinned tiredly, and then shrugged.

"I've been working on silent movement. I've almost mastered it, but it was no trick to sneak up on you three. You were talking loud enough to wake the whole camp."

"How much did you hear?" Theodred asked, slightly embarrassed that his comment about Faramir might have been heard.

Faramir stared at him with solemn grey eyes, as he remarked, "Enough."

He glanced at Eowyn again, and then at Eomer.

"Let her go."

Eomer glanced down at his sister, hanging limply in his arms, and let her go. Eowyn fell to the ground. Eomer, Theodred, and Faramir all leaned down to help her, but she lifted her chin and stood up by herself. Theodred watched her like a mouse watches a cat, but all her fire and anger seemed to have disappeared.

"Did you get in trouble?" Eowyn asked her friend softly, her once flaming grey eyes now solemn and worried.

Faramir laughed and shook his head.

"Father was preoccupied this evening. He didn't pay much mind to it after I told him what happened."

"Or what you said happened," Theodred muttered to himself.

Eowyn just happened to overhear her cousin. Her eyes burned anew as she spun around toward him, but Faramir grabbed her arm.

"Don't."

"But he called you—"

"I know," Faramir interrupted. "I heard."

Theodred looked uncomfortable, scratching his neck and glancing up at the rising moon.

"But…" Eowyn, for once, was at a loss for words. "How could you not be angry?"

Faramir grinned down at her and shrugged.

"Some things cannot be solved through violence, Eowyn."

He sent a glance at Theodred, who still looked uncomfortable at offending a member of the house of the Steward of Gondor. Eowyn's cousin cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, Faramir spoke:

"I may be many things, Prince Theodred, but I am not a liar."

Theodred coughed and shook his head.

"But the lie you told your father…"

"Was not a lie," Faramir replied with a slight smile. "I told him the truth about the fight after dinner."

Eowyn gasped and looked at him with wide grey eyes.

"But…wasn't he angry?"

"On the contrary," Faramir replied, giving Theodred a look before glancing back at Eowyn. "He said he was happy to have a son who was so truthful, and that as long as we keep out of any more fights," he grinned Eowyn, "I shan't get in trouble this time."

Eowyn looked down at the ground in shame. Of course she should have told the truth. It was the honorable thing to do.

"Are you done beating me up?" Theodred asked softly.

Faramir glared at him.

"Will you stop teasing her? I think she's had enough for one day, don't you?"

Eowyn glanced gratefully at her friend.

"But all that talk about women and fighting," Eomer said with a frown. "I suppose she was just angry."

"Actually, I think I learned something new on that subject," Faramir grimaced, touching his cheek. "And if you want a lesson on that, just tell Eowyn that girls can't fight a duel."

As the four stood there in the twilight, a clear, strong sound rang out in the valley, making all three of the boys put their hands on their sword hilts, and making Eowyn grab at the dagger that she wore.

It was a horn of warning.

**_TBC..._**


	8. Chapter 8: Moment of Darkness

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. **

**A/N: This is the second to last chapter! I'm sorry to excite you with the idea that it might be a lot longer, but this story will soon come to an end.** **Thanks for being so patient when I gave you a cliff hanger and then took so long to update...I really appreciate it. ;) You guys are so nice to review my story. ;)**

**WorldofWarCraftFanatic16:** The horn of warning bears ill fortune...almost always. ;) Eowyn rocks. I picture her and Eomer always fighting...but maybe that's just me. ;)

**Isilme'sStar:** I know...I wanted to have her really beat her cousin and brother up...but I didn't want it to get too violent, as the rating of this fic is still K+. ;) Sorry!

**redrose7856:** Several things happen next, but you're going to have to read to find out what they are! Thanks for telling me to keep writing...I've been slightly burned out lately. ;)

**Legolas:** So did I. Horns of Warning like to pop into the story uninvited. I think I'll blame it on my evil twin...Faramir is so cool. I always picture him as a ranger, even when so young.

**Moromu:** You have no idea how much you scared me when you said that. I only had a few seconds to read reviews, saw the word disappointed, and spent the rest of the day going "Why is Moromu disappointed? Didn't they like my story? What ever shall I do?" Then I saw the smiley face at the end...;)

**Dearborn:** It was going to be the final chapter, but thanks to a plea from a reviewer I decided to make it a little longer and give it a cool climax. This chapter. grins evilly I hope you're not too put out. ;)

**Bittersweet x:** Thanks! I'm so glad you liked the chapter. It was funny to write...poor Theodred. shakes head ;) Here's your update!

**blueoctober:** If Eomer doesn't watch his brotherly teasing than he will certainly end up like Theodred and poor Faramir...;) Sorry about the cliffy...I couldn't resist. Here's another, so if you don't want to be left hanging you might not want to read this chapter until the next one is out. ;)

**Queen Su:** I'm so glad you liked it. ;) Cliff hangers are such fun...for the author anyway. grins evilly Hope you like this chappie too. ;)

**The Halfling of the Shire:** I'm glad you liked Denethor (well at least my interpretation of Denethor). He's so creepy. I love how they did him in the movie. Theoden is amazing. He's my dad's favorite king. And Eowyn and Theoden are so fun together.

**SilRain:** Thanks for the review! Here's your update. I think it would be cool to be like Faramir, and I'm sure he knew that he wanted to be a ranger from quite a young age. ;) Or maybe he just got good at walking quietly and using the bow and decided to be one then. Oh well. I'm glad you like it. ;)

_--Chapter 8--_

As the call of the horn of warning echoed through the camp of Théoden, Eowyn drew her dagger, wishing that her uncle had allowed her to carry a sword like her brother. She cast a longing glance at Theodred and Eomer's swords, and then noticed with interest that instead of drawing his sword, Faramir quickly strung a bow. After taking a quiver full of arrows from his back, he handed the bow and arrows to a very surprised Eowyn.

"You might need these," he said hastily.

Theodred glanced at the bow and all the arrows in surprise.

"Do you always carry so many weapons with you?" he asked Faramir dryly.

The corners of Faramir's mouth twitched slightly, and he shook his head.

"I left them at here at the archery range this morning. Father told me to get them after dinner."

Eowyn tested the string, and sent Faramir a worried smile.

"Thanks," she murmured as he drew his own sword.

"Arrow on the string," Faramir replied quietly. "There's no telling what that horn meant."

The four of them stood in a circle, back to back, waiting for anything that might come their way. Eowyn drew an arrow from the quiver and fitted the notch in the end of the arrow, called the nock, so that it clung to the string. The anticipation was horrible. Finally, a cloaked figure came around a corner.

"Don't shoot!" hissed the cloak.

Eowyn almost shot the figure anyway. There was only one person with a voice like that: Grima Wormtongue. Theodred stepped forward.

"Where is Father, Master Grima?"

The man pulled back his hood; Eowyn shuddered again at the sight of his deathly pale face in the moonlight.

"Orcs have entered the camp; servants of Sauron."

Grima paused, glancing at the bow and Eowyn's hands, and at the swords in the others.

"Théoden King sent me to tell you to take the children into the great hall at the center of camp. They'll be safest there."

"Safest!" Eowyn shouted, outraged.

Theodred grabbed her shoulder, and then jerked his head at Eomer and Faramir.

"Come on, you two. Let's go."

Before they could protest, the sound of sharp metal clashing and battle cries came from the East. Theodred pushed Eowyn forward; the two boys followed reluctantly, still grasping their swords tightly.

The four of them hurried through the camp, where men were rushing to and fro, preparing for the battle. Finally, Eowyn found herself being pushed toward the great doors at the hall.

"Go on," Theodred said restlessly. "You'd better stay there until Father or I come for you. Eomer, Faramir…"

The two boys turned toward him.

"Don't let her try anything. Take care of her."

Then Theodred turned and set off in a run, heading for the sounds of battle. Eowyn would have let out a growl of exasperation, but the moment was too exciting. Orcs in the camp…a chance to prove her valor. Eomer looked rather annoyed at being left behind to watch her, but Faramir's dark hood hid anything he might be feeling.

"I wish we could join in the fight," Eowyn said suddenly, plucking at the bowstring distractedly.

Eomer shot her a sideways look.

"We? Maybe Faramir and I, but certainly not you. You couldn't shoot an arrow straight to save your life!"

"Oh leave her alone," Faramir snapped tiredly.

A ghoulish scream from a dying Orc sent a shiver down Eowyn's spine, and for once, she didn't feel so courageous. What was it to be brave? To fight valiantly and die in battle?

She didn't want to be in pain. She didn't want to die. And to see and fight one of those Orcs…Eowyn's stomach turned.

The thought of battle had seemed so alluring and magical before this moment, but now…

"Maybe you were right today," she said, her voice thick with fear.

Eomer's blood turned to ice at his sister's words. Was she actually saying, for once, that she did not want to fight? What was happening to her?

"What are you talking about?" he said, cursing inwardly at his shaky tone.

Eowyn turned to him, her grey eyes large; the look in them was alien to him.

"I don't feel very brave," she said, her voice quivering, the bow falling from her hands to the ground.

Eomer was speechless with shock. This was _his _sister speaking? He unconsciously took a half step away from her. Faramir, however, stepped forward.

Eowyn turned her gaze to her friend, and shook her head as she stumbled back.

"I don't want to feel brave," she said, her voice getting higher as panic filled her words. "I'm afraid!"

Faramir lunged forward and grabbed her hands, his heart beating like mad. Eowyn's hands were as cold as ice.

"Listen to me," he said firmly, squeezing her hands and trying to force some warmth into them, "you _are_ brave."

Eowyn shook her head, her eyes filling with tears.

"You don't understand! I'm not! I'm afraid…I'm a coward."

She looked down in shame. Faramir threw back his hood, forcing himself to remain calm.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Eowyn looked up instantly. Her frightened blue-grey eyes met his; grey and composed, as calm as the sea.

"You _are_ brave, Eowyn," Faramir said, biting his lip and trying to keep his voice steady. "It takes courage to admit that you are afraid."

Eowyn shook her head again and looked down, but Faramir wasn't finished.

"You are the…the bravest girl in Middle Earth. You are a valiant lady of Rohan."

He touched her chin lightly, and she looked back up at him.

"You are brave, Eowyn. Now be strong. Do not surrender to the darkness of despair."

The fear drained out of her eyes, replaced by stern resolve.

"I am strong," she replied, a tear running down her face. "I will not surrender to the darkness. Never."

Faramir let go of her hands and picked up the bow from where it lay on the ground. He knew that her dark moment, the one instant when everything was at its darkest, had passed.

"Here," he said, handing it to her and looking into her eyes firmly one more time. "Be ready."

Eomer heaved a sigh of relief as Eowyn stood up again, her expression brave again. He had never known his sister to admit her weakness in anything. A smile formed on his face as he thought about all the teasing he could do later…but then vanished when he heard a slight rustling noise from the bushes.

"Perhaps we should go inside," Eomer said, sending a worried glance at the bush.

"There are women and children inside," Eowyn replied, gazing at the great doors. "We should stand guard here and shut the doors if we must."

There was no challenge in her tone, but Eomer didn't want to take any chances. Theodred had said to take care of her.

"Go inside," he ordered softly.

Eowyn flashed a glare at him, a bit of fire burning in her eyes again, but the look disappeared in less than a second, quenched by the knowledge that she didn't really want to fight.

"As you wish, Eomer," she said wearily, picking up the quiver too and starting toward the door.

Another muffled rustling sound came from the bush. Eomer, his sword already drawn, brought the blade up into a defensive position. Faramir noticed his unease, and raised his sword as well.

Eowyn paused in the doorway and looked back at the boys, both staring at the bush. Something made her draw an arrow from the quiver and nock it on the string.

Something was about to happen, and Eowyn was ready.

**_TBC...(one more chapter to go! sad smile)..._**


	9. Chapter 9: Farewell

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings.**

**A/N: I do apologize for taking so long to post this chapter. I had writer's block for the longest time, and then I encountered some other troubles which I won't bore you by describing. ;) I thank you, once again, for your patience.**

**I hate ending a good fic. I've had lots of fun with this one, and I'm so happy that many of you readers liked it too. This is, indeed, the last chapter; but fear not. **

**A sequel is in the making that will take place about 11 years after this fic during the War of the Ring. Maybe I'll even make this a trilogy, and do one a few years after that. Who knows? But your reviews will determine most of what happens with sequels and such. **

**When I have posted the first chapter, I will post a notice on this story in it's own chapter. Those of you who have alerts on this story should be notified about a new chapter, which will actually be the notification. ;) Sorry if that confuses you.**

**Please, please review. ;) **

**WorldofWarCraftFanatic16**: It is, indeed, quite sad. Everyone has their moments of darkness. Eowyn was lucky enough to have a good friend nearby to help her through that one. ;)

**Queen Su:** That line was extremely random. Digory right? lol

**redrose7856**: I'm so glad you like it! Your reviews are so encouraging. ;) Thanks again!

**Moromu**: I am not kidding. I'm sorry you're disappointed. Perhaps this chapter will appease you. ;) As for advice on what to do, maybe you should write your own Eowyn/Faramir fic. ;) I'll read and review it. ;)

**Bittersweet x:** So glad he seemed right to you. Faramir always struck me as having so much quiet wisdom. I wish they had put more of him in the movies.

**blueoctober**: I know. What is it with fanfics and cliffhangers? ;) I'm glad you liked Faramir. I'm sure that Eowyn was very happy to have him there with her in her moment of darkness. ;) Tis true. No one wants the story to end, but it someday must. Luckily, this is not really the end. Only the beginning, really. ;)

**SilRain**: I know! Everyone needs a friend to help them out in times of trouble.

**Legolas**: Thanks for your advice! And thanks to you, I will be writing a fic that will take place during the Lord of the Rings. ;) I'm not sure how soon I will have the first chapter out, but it will be about Faramir and Eowyn. ;)

**CrystalFNfire**: I'm so glad you like this story! I've had so much fun writing Faramir and Eowyn, and I'm glad you like my writing style.

**lulu:** Unfortunately so. :( I'm glad you want me to keep writing. I do too. ;)

**Dearborn:** I know. Cliffies are so evil...that's why I like them so much! :grins evily:

**asdfjkl;:** Thanks for your input! Because you and another reviewer have asked for it, I now intend to carry this story forward a few years (a whole other fic, however) and continue the story of Faramir and Eowyn. ;) Glad you like it so much!

**buttonbit:** I'm glad you liked it! Eowyn is awesome. Here's your update!

**Halfling of the Shire:** Oh yes. Faramir is already a Ranger...of sorts. ;) He's awesome. Glad you like it. Intriguing is a great descriptive word. ;)

_And now, without further ado..._

-Chapter 9-

The bush trembled again. Faramir's hands shook as he held his sword out toward the moving shrub.

_What can it be? _he wondered._ No man would sneak up on the Hall like that. An Orc might, though…_

He swallowed hard and glanced over at Eomer. The older boy looked as if he was just as unnerved as Faramir, but his hands were steady. Suddenly, the bush let out a low growl. Faramir's eyes darted back to it more quickly than they had left it. Eomer cleared his throat, the tension driving him mad.

"Friend or foe?" Eowyn's brother asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

The bush quivered again, and then, without warning, the bush leapt forward at Eomer!

In the dim torchlight, Faramir could just make out that the figure that had been hiding in the bush was really, as he had feared, an Orc. Eomer's face was surprised as the Orc jumped at him, its weapon ready, but he still managed to hold up his sword and ward off the attack. Instinctively, Faramir reached for his quiver that usually hung on his back, but then he remembered, with sinking heart, that he had given that and his bow to Eowyn.

Gritting his teeth and gripping his sword hilt tightly, Faramir sprinted toward Eomer and the Orc. The Orc, which would have been easy to defeat for any man, was keeping Eomer at bay; the sight of the creature unnerved Eomer so much that he could hardly concentrate on defending himself.

"Eomer, DUCK!" Faramir shouted as he swung his sword at the Orc's head.

Eomer ducked just in time. Unfortunately, so did the Orc, and the sword whistled harmlessly over its head. Faramir stumbled forward, set off balance because the sword had not hit its target.

The Orc, realizing it was facing more than one warrior, looked first at Eomer, and then at Faramir. With a hiss at Eomer, it turned to the other boy, and gave a grin that showed all of its teeth, yellow and black with decay. A foul smell washed over Faramir, and he grimaced at the thing that stood before him.

With a snarl, the Orc leapt forward with its jagged blade. Faramir managed to evade the blow by slipping under the creature's thrust and swinging his own sword around at it. Faramir's sword hit the Orc in the side with the flat of the blade, winding the creature, but not really hurting it.

The Orc hissed and turned toward him, its face twisted into an angry sneer.

"Die," it croaked. "Die now!"

It leapt forward again, and this time, the Orc's blade connected with Faramir's right arm; his sword arm. With a short cry of pain, Faramir dropped his sword and stumbled back.

"Boromir," the boy muttered, clutching his wounded arm, "where are you when I need you?"

Eomer, now over his first fear, stepped in between Faramir and the Orc. Before either of them had moved, however, everyone froze at the "twang" of a bowstring.

As the Orc leapt at Eomer, Eowyn shuddered at the sight of the fell beast. In the dim torchlight, she couldn't make out any details, but the creature was still grotesque beyond anything she had ever seen before. With utter fascination and disgust, she watched her brother fight the Orc, and then saw the beast attack Faramir. It wasn't until it uttered its first word, "Die," that she remembered where she was and what she held in her hands.

Eowyn's hand began to tremble as she grippec the smooth bow tightly. Hastily, she reached up and drew an arrow, straight and lean, from the quiver. Her fingers were shaking so that she could hardly nock the arrow on the string. But then, she froze up. Her grey eyes widened in horror as she looked at the bow in her hands.

"Dol lost lin, Eowyn _(your head is empty, Eowyn)_," she murmured frantically, "You don't know how to shoot it!"

Eowyn had never shot a bow before. All her fighting had been with the sword, as she had considered the bow to be a weaker weapon. Now, her hands shaking so hard she could hardly hold the weapon, she raised the bow and gripped the string around the arrow with three fingers. She could hardly pull it back; the bow was too heavy for her, and she struggled for a long moment before she finally put all her energy into pulling back the string.

"Eru guide my arrow!" she prayed as she aimed.

Eowyn closed her eyes, and then let fly the arrow. The twang that came from the bowstring calmed her fear, and the thump of the arrow told her she had hit something. She opened her eyes, and saw, to her dismay, that the arrow had flown wide left, driving into the ground by Faramir's feet. He looked up at her with wide eyes, and when he saw the weapon in her hands, he motioned for her to shoot another arrow, smiling nervously to encourage her.

Feeling a bit bolder, Eowyn drew another arrow from the quiver. The Orc, warned by the first twang of the bow, was turning round and round, trying to see who his new attacker was. Eomer used this distraction to drive his sword at the creature, which hit the Orc's left arm. The beast howled in pain, and swung his sword wildly at Eomer.

Eowyn quickly nocked another arrow and fired it immediately without taking time to aim. It flew wide right, making a loud thump as it drove deeply into the wood of the Hall.

The Orc, hearing the thump, jerked its head toward the arrow, still quivering in the wood, and then at the direction from whence the arrow had come. When it saw Eowyn, standing in the torchlight like a statue, her bow held out before her, it snarled, pushed Eomer back, and began running toward her.

Eowyn drew another arrow, nocked it, and drew back the string in one smooth motion. The Orc rose up before her, its foul smell surrounding her. With a scream, Eowyn let go of the arrow. She heard a thump, a groan, and then her world grew dim as it faded into blackness.

When Eowyn awoke, the first thought that darted into her mind was, _I'm not dead, am I?_

She wasn't dead. She was on a soft bed with a smooth blanket covering her. Her forehead felt wet.

_Wet?_

Eowyn's eyes popped open. She was in a white canvas tent. The sun was shining, and it seemed to be morning. She reached up and touched her forehead. Her fingers found a cloth, wet with water. There was no blood on the cloth.

_Why should there be blood on the cloth? _she wondered absently. _I haven't been wounded, have I?_

Then, all the details of the previous day flooded back so quickly that her head began to spin. Faramir; the fight between them; dinner; Theodred; the Orc…and then blackness.

Eowyn sat up quickly, causing her head to spin again. She felt her forehead gingerly with a muffled moan, and then stood slowly. The heavy folds of her long white dress cascaded down from the bed, until they swayed gently around her legs.

"Eowyn!"

The girl looked up at the tent flap, and saw her brother standing there, his face filled with relief. He was dressed in a simple green tunic lined with gold. He had a bandage on his arm, and his face was bruised. His lip had a scab on it.

"Eomer?" she asked, swaying a little. "What happened?"

Eomer entered the tent and pushed her gently back toward the cot.

"Sit down. You should rest today," he ordered, trying to sound commanding and gruff, but failing miserably, sounding instead like a worried older brother.

"Eomer, what happened?" Eowyn demanded to know, obeying and sitting down on the cot. "The last thing I remember was the Orc."

Eomer grimaced and rubbed his shoulder ruefully.

"Yes, the Orc. Don't worry. It's dead."

Eowyn glared at him and stamped her foot.

"Yes I'm sure it is since I'm alive, but what happened?"

"You know," her brother continued, glancing up at the top of the tent, "you really shouldn't worry yourself with such things. You need some rest after what happened yesterday."

Eowyn's eyes flashed as she jumped to her feet, ignoring her dizziness, and marched over to Eomer.

"Eomer, if you don't tell me what happened _right this instant_ than you'll end up like that Orc," she shouted angrily, pulling back a fist as if in warning.

Eomer, trying unsuccessfully to keep a grin off his face, took a few steps back, holding out a hand to stop his sister.

"Eowyn," he said, unable to resist one last tease. "Maybe you should rest first."

With an angry battle cry, Eowyn leapt forward and socked her brother in the stomach. He fell over, laughing merrily, which made Eowyn even angrier.

When Eomer was on the ground and Eowyn on top of him, pinning him down, she growled at him.

"Will you tell me now?" she said, more commanding him to than asking.

"Not until you promise you'll sit down on the bed while I tell you what happened," her brother replied with a short laugh.

"Fine," his sister replied, baring her teeth one last time. "And stop laughing. I wasn't being funny."

Eomer grinned again, irritating his sister even more.

"Stop it!" she cried, raising her fist again.

"What's this?" came a voice from the flap. "Already fighting today, Lady Eowyn?"

Eowyn slowly got to her feet as Boromir entered the tent, her face turning pink.

"He asked for it," she replied, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

Boromir grinned at her and shook his head.

"I'm sure he did. What happened last night?" he asked, giving Eomer a hand up. "I only heard Faramir's side of the story."

His younger brother now appeared at the tent flap, limping slightly, Eowyn noticed. Both the brothers were dressed in light blue with gold trim. Faramir's bruise from their 'duel to the death' was still dark purple on his cheek.

"I'm not sure," Eowyn replied, sitting down on one end of the bed and looking at Eomer pointedly. "But my darling brother promised to tell me what happened."

Eomer sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Are you sure you want to hear it, sister?" he asked with a mischievous grin. "Most likely you won't believe me."

Eowyn started for him again, but Eomer held up a hand.

"I won't tell you unless you remain seated."

His sister let out an exasperated growl, but sat down again.

"Older brothers," she muttered.

Faramir nodded in sympathy.

"Tell me about it," he whispered, poking her gently. "Boromir is just as bad."

Eowyn glanced at him with an impish grin.

"As bad as Eomer? Impossible!"

The older brothers graciously ignored their comments.

"Well," Eomer began, "I believe you heard of what happened last night, Boromir."

The eldest son of Denethor nodded at this, and Eomer continued, too slowly for Eowyn's liking.

"The Orc turned at the sound of the twang from Eowyn's bow. The arrow missed it completely - you really need to learn how to shoot a bow, little sister - , but the Orc heard the sound and saw Eowyn. It ran toward her and blocked our view of what was happening. Faramir and I started after it, and then we heard a scream. Then the Orc let out a groan, and jerked back. I got there just in time to see the Orc fall backward and Eowyn crumple to the ground."

"What happened, though?" Eowyn asked impatiently, wrinkling her nose. "Did it hit me?"

"No," Eomer replied, tapping her on the head gently. "You fainted."

"Fainted!" Eowyn leapt to her feet with a shocked, angry cry.

"I did not!" she turned to Faramir and gave him a look. "Tell him he's wrong. I didn't faint."

"But you did," Faramir said, ignoring the hurt look she gave him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. And you killed the Orc, didn't you?"

"I suppose," Eowyn said, her stomach turning. "What happened next?"

Eomer leaned back in his chair and looked up at the top of the tent.

"Well after that not much happened. We got you into the hall, and fought off a few more Orcs. Then Uncle Théoden and Theodred showed up and wanted to know what happened. And we told them, and they told us that all the Orcs had been disposed of, so we all went to bed."

Eomer stood up abruptly, as did Boromir.

"Come on," Eomer said, jerking his head at the tent flap. "Let's go to the stables."

"Why don't we go to the archery range," Boromir said, grinning at Eowyn, who stuck out her tongue at him.

"Oh come on," Eomer said, shaking his head as he stepped out of the tent. "Don't you want to go for a ride?"

"I'd rather teach Eowyn how to shoot a bow," Boromir replied as he followed Eowyn's brother.

The two younger siblings were left in the tent alone, listening to their older brothers argue over how to spend the day.

"So you've finally had your first fight," Faramir said, breaking the silence.

Eowyn sighed and ran a hand through her thick hair.

"Some fight. I fainted."

Faramir grinned slightly and shook his head.

"Yes, but you still killed the Orc."

Eowyn thought about this, and then nodded.

"I guess I did."

They both sat in silence for a moment, and then Eowyn smiled.

"Thanks for letting me use your bow. I guess I'll have to learn how to use one now."

"Boromir would love to teach you," Faramir said, rolling his eyes with a head jerk at the tent flap. "I think he thinks he's in love with you."

Eowyn rolled her eyes too and giggled.

"That's silly. I don't think I'll ever fall in love. I won't ever get married anyway," she said decidedly, biting her lip.

"Why not?" asked Faramir hesitantly.

"Because then I'll have to act like a woman," Eowyn replied, glaring at the tent flap. "I won't be able to do anything."

Faramir watched her with cool grey eyes, hoping that he would always remember her like this; brave and rebellious, but gentle in her own fiery way.

"You might change your mind someday," he whispered with a grin. "I'm sure Boromir hopes you will."

Eowyn poked him and shot him a playful glare.

"Really. I'd rather marry a horse."

"Don't let him hear you say that," Faramir replied.

Then, thoughtfully, he moistened his lips and spoke again.

"Would you…would you marry someone who would let you fight and do things that women aren't really supposed to do?"

Eowyn turned to him with a curious expression on her face.

"I'd be more likely to marry a person like that than anyone else. Why do you ask?"

Faramir turned red and looked away.

"No reason," he said. "I was just wondering."

Eowyn raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to speak, but Boromir rushed into the tent and interrupted whatever she was going to say.

"Faramir," he panted, glancing quickly at Eowyn and then back at his brother, "We're leaving. Father said we have to be at the stables in five minutes, so get your stuff together and…say your goodbyes," he finished, giving Eowyn one last lingering glance.

Eowyn and Faramir exchanged an amused look, and Faramir stood up.

"All right," he said. "See you there."

With a quick wink at Eowyn, Boromir nodded to his brother, and then turned to leave the tent. Faramir and Eowyn remained in silence for a moment. Then with a long sigh, Faramir got to his feet.

"I suppose I'd better go," he said softly.

Eowyn smiled sadly and stood as well.

"I wish you could stay," she murmured, looking down and biting her lip.

Faramir nodded and reached out his hand, just barely brushing her sleeve with his fingers.

"Don't worry. We'll meet again. I'm certain of it."

"Are you?" Eowyn raised her grey-blue eyes, hard as steel, to Faramir's soft grey ones. She slipped her smooth white hands into his.

"Of course," he replied, smiling slightly. "And even if we didn't meet again, no matter what happens, Eowyn, I'll always be your friend."

Eowyn gave him a smile that Faramir knew he would never forget. He leaned forward over her, still holding her hands; for years afterward, he wasn't sure what would have happened if they hadn't been interrupted.

_Perhaps_, he sometimes pondered, _I might have kissed her_. But a voice came from the door, shattering the spell of silence that surrounded them.

"Faramir!"

Boromir poked his head in the door, the expression on his face changing from one of impatience to one of shock and surprise as he noticed the two.

"Oh…" he glanced at his brother, "it's time to go."

"Goodbye," Eowyn said, nodding to first Boromir, and then her friend.

Faramir looked at her one more time, and then ran out of the tent, pushing past Boromir, and almost knocking his big brother to the ground. Boromir watched him go with an air of confusion.

"My lady," he said, regaining his composure as he turned to Eowyn, "it was a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure was mine," Eowyn replied automatically, her eyes still gazing at the tent flap where Faramir had gone.

Boromir cleared his throat and stepped forward a bit.

"Perhaps," he said urgently, "you and your brother might someday visit the great city of Minas Tirith. You would be welcome…" his voice trailed off as she turned her cool eyes upon him.

"Your offer is most gratefully received. Farewell to you, Lord Boromir."

Her voice was cold and distant. Boromir took the hint and turned, trying desperately to keep his anger from exploding into words.

"Farewell, Lady Eowyn."

He stalked out of the tent and made his way to the stables, too angry to speak. He didn't even notice when he brushed past Eomer, who looked rather surprised, yet did not say a word. Finally, Boromir found his father's company mounting up on their horses. His father on the back of a horse was a most unusual sight. Lord Denethor preferred not to ride when he had the choice.

Boromir swung up on his chestnut stallion. Once on the horse's back, he was able to see the faces of the mounted men around him. To his surprise, Faramir was already there, sitting on his grey steed, his cloak making him look like a Ranger. At this Boromir smiled. Faramir, smaller than his brother, was never much good at the sword. The boy loved to read, and do indoor things, which Denethor looked down upon with disdain.

_"Read…play chess…," _he would say._ "And if an Orc attacks you, what will you do? Throw a book at it? Challenge it to a game of chess?"_

The Captain of the Company approached Denethor.

"My lord," Boromir heard him say, "Are you ready to depart?"

"I am," Lord Denethor replied wearily. "Let us leave at once."

"My lord," the Captain said, bowing his head as he swerved his prancing horse around and rode to the front of the column.

"To Minas Tirith!" the man shouted, raising his sword above his head.

"Minas Tirith!" the men of the Company replied in a long, joyful yell.

Then, all of the Company nudged their horses forward. Boromir found himself riding at Faramir's side. They said nothing, but exchanged a grin at the sight of their father, who was bouncing up and down on his black stallion, and looking, to tell the truth, rather unlike a steward at the moment.

When they reached the crest of the first hill, Faramir, at the back of the group, turned back in the saddle, and pulled his horse to a stop.

He looked back across the plain they had just crossed, back toward the camp. There, upon the little hill where he had first met Eowyn with her stick, but as Morwen with her sword, he saw a small figure, dressed in white. He grinned at the last sight of his friend.

"Eru berio le," he whispered, using the few Elvish words he had learnt from Elves that had visited his father's court. _"Eru keep you."_

After Boromir had gone, Eowyn stood for a few minutes just blinking back tears. Then Eomer half knocked her down as he barreled through the tent flap.

"They're…leaving," he said breathlessly. "The company…is…departing."

Eowyn pushed past him and ran. She wasn't sure where exactly she was going until she reached the place. It was the hill. The hill where she had fought, first imaginary Orcs and Sauron, and then Faramir, only Isildur to her then. She stood there on the hill, looking down at the lake, vowing to herself that she would never forget that day.

Then, a flash of grey up on the next hill caught her eye. Eowyn glanced up quickly, and saw a light grey horse at the top, pawing the air in anticipation. Its rider was cloaked in grey, and Eowyn smiled sadly, as she realized that this was Faramir.

The wind blew around her violently, and words floated to her across the wind.

"Eru belio le," the wind whispered, though Eowyn knew who had _really_ said the words.

"Noro go hul, bado go Eru," she replied in the customary Elvish farewell that she remembered from somewhere in the past. _"Run with the wind, go with God."_

The grey horse turned and disappeared over the crest of the hill. Eowyn picked up her stick from where it lay on the ground and held it high over her head.

"For Faramir," she whispered as the tears streamed down her face.

Then she plunged into the invisible ranks of Orc soldiers, fighting bravely and sure to be victorious in the end.

_Such was the first meeting of Lady Eowyn and Lord Faramir; they parted in grief, but both knew, or at least suspected, that someday their paths would cross again…_

**Finis**

**

* * *

**ATTENTION: This is a public service announcement direct from King Caspian the Seafarer to alert all fans of the story Morwen and Isildur that the first chapter of the sequel, Danger in Edoras, has been posted. You may find Danger in Edoras by looking on Caspian's profile, or by copying and pasting the following link: fanfiction dot net/s/6015332/1/Danger_in_Edoras (you have to replace the 'dot' with '.')

Thank you for your patience.

-The Managment (erm...that's me. ;D)


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